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r^^ LEGEND OF 
SLEEPY HOLLOW 



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The LEGEND OF 

SLEEPY 
HOLLOW 

From The Sketch Book of 
Washington Irving 



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'^^^J'- of Cop^l!^ 



Published for Will Bradley by 
R. H. RUSSELL, New York. 



2114 



Copyright, i8g7) by Will Bradley. 



5> 




The LEGEND OF 

SLEEPY 
HOLLOW 

ifounti among ti^e l^aperjs of ti^e late 
?©t'eDn'ci^ lftn(c6et;boc6et;. 

A pleasing land of drowsy head it was. 

Of dreams that wave before the half -shut eye; 

And of gay castles in the clouds that pass. 

For ever flushing round a summer sky — Castle of Indolence. 

IN the bosom of one of those spacious 
coves which indent the eastern shore 
of the Hudson, at that broad expan- 
sion of the river denominated by the 
ancient Dutch navigators the Tappaan Zee, 
and where they always prudently shortened 
sail, and implored the protection of St. 
Nicholas when they crossed, there lies a 
small market town or rural port, which by 



8 The Legend of 

some is called Greensburgh, but which is 
more generally and properly known by 
the name of Tarry Town. This name 
was given it, we are told, in former days, 
by the good housewives of the adjacent 
country, from the inveterate propensity of 
their husbands to linger about the village 
tavern on market days. Be that as it may, 
I do not vouch for the fact, but merely ad- 
vert to it, for the sake of being precise and 
authentic. Not far from this village, per- 
haps about three miles, there is a little val- 
ley or rather lap of land among high hills, 
which is one of the quietest places in the 
whole world. A small brook glides through 
it, with just murmur enough to lull one 
to repose; and the occasional whistle of a 
quail, or tapping of a woodpecker, is al- 
most the only sound that ever breaks in 
upon the uniform tranquillity. 
I recollect that, when a stripling, my first 
exploit in squirrel-shooting was in a grove 
of tall walnut-trees that shades one side of 
the valley. I had wandered into it at 
noon-time when all nature is peculiarly 
quiet, and was startled by the roar of my 
own gun, as it broke the sabbath stillness 
around, and was prolonged and reveberated 
by the angry echoes. If ever I should 
wish for a retreat whither I might steal 
from the world and its distractions, and 



Sleepy Hollow 



dream quietly away the remnant of a trou- 
bled life, I know of none more promising 
than this little valley. 
From the listless repose of the place, and 
the peculiar character of its inhabitants, 
who are descendants from the original 
Ducth settlers, this sequestered glen has 
long been known by the name of Sleepy 
Hollow, and its rustic lads are called the 
Sleepy Hollow Boys throughout all the 
neighboring country. A drowsy, dreamy 
influence seems to hang over the land, and 
to pervade the very atmosphere. Some say 
that the place was bewitched by a high 
German doctor, during the early days of 
the settlement; others, than an old Indian 
chief, the prophet or wizard of his tribe, 
held his powivows there before the coun- 
try was discovered by Master Hendrick 
Hudson. Certain it is, that the place still 
continues under the sway of some witch- 
ing power, that holds a spell over the 
minds of the good people, causing them 
to walk in a continual reverie. They are 
given to all kinds of marvellous beliefs; are 
subject to trances and visions, and frequent- 
ly see strange sights, and hear music and 
voices in the air. The whole neighbor- 
hood abounds with local tales, haunted 
spots, and twilight superstitions; stars shoot 
and meteors glare oftener across the valley 



lo The Legend of 

than in any other part of the country, and 
the night-mare, with her whole nine fold, 
seems to make it the favorite scene of 
her gambols. 

The dominant spirit, however, that haunts 
this enchanted region, and seems to be com- 
mander-in-chief of all the powers of the 
air, is the apparition of a figure on horse- 
back without a head. It is said by some 
to be the ghost of a Hessian trooper, whose 
head had been carried away by a cannon- 
ball, in some nameless battle during the 
revolutionary war, and who is ever and 
anon seen by the country folk, hurrying 
along in the gloom of night, as if on the 
wings of the wind. His haunts are not 
confined to the valley, but extend at times 
to the adjacent roads, and especially to the 
vicinity of a church that is at no great dis- 
tance. Indeed, certain of the most authen- 
tic historians of those parts, who have been 
careful in collecting and collating the float- 
ing facts concerning this spectre, allege, 
that the body of the trooper having been 
buried in the churchyard, the ghost rides 
forth to the scene of battle in nightly quest 
of his head, and that the rushing speed with 
which he sometimes passes along the hol- 
low, like a midnight blast, is owing to his 
being belated, and in a hurry to get back 
to the churchyard before daybreak. 



Sleepy Hollow 1 1 

Such is the general purport or this legend- 
ary superstition, which has furnished mate- 
rials for many a wild story in that region 
of shadows; and the spectre is known at all 
the country firesides, by the name of The 
Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow. 
It is remarkable, that the visionary propen- 
sity I have mentioned is not confined to the 
native inhabitants of the valley but is uncon- 
sciously imbibed by every one who resides 
there for a time. However wide awake 
they may have been before they reached 
that sleepy region, they are sure, in a little 
time, to inhale the witching influence of 
the air, and begin to grow imaginative — 
to dream dreams, and see apparitions. 
I mention this peaceful spot with all pos- 
sible laud; for it is in such little retired 
Dutch valleys, found here and there em- 
bosomed in the great State of New York, 
that population, manners, and customs re- 
main fixed, while the great torrent of mi- 
gration and improvement, which is making 
such incessant changes in other parts of this 
restless country, sweeps by them unobserved. 
They are like those little nooks of still 
water, which border a rapid stream, where 
we may see the straw and bubble riding 
quietly at anchor, or slowly revolving in 
their mimic harbor, undisturbed by the 
rush of the passing current. Though many 



12 The Legend of 

years have elapsed since I trod the drowsy 
shades of Sleepy Hollow, yet I question 
whether I should not still find the same 
trees and the same families vegetating in 
its sheltered bosom. 

In this by-place of nature there abode, in 
a remote period of American history, that 
is to say, some thirty years since, a worthy 
wight of the name of Ichabod Crane, who 
sojourned, or, as he expressed it, ** tarried," 
in Sleepy Hollow, for the purpose of in- 
structing the children of the vicinity. He 
was a native of Connecticut, a State which 
supplies the Union with pioneers for the 
mind as well as for the forest, and sends 
forth yearly its legions of frontier woodmen 
and country schoolmasters. The cogno- 
men of Crane was not inapplicable to his 
person. He was tall, but exceedingly lank, 
with narrow shoulders, long arms and legs, 
hands that dangled a mile out of his sleeves, 
feet that might have served for shovels, and 
his whole frame most loosely hung together. 
His head was small and flat at top, with 
huge ears, large green glassy eyes, and a 
long snipe nose, so that it looked like a 
weather-cock perched upon his spindle 
neck, to tell which way the wind blew. 
To see him striding along the profile of a 
hill on a windy day, with his clothes bag- 
ging and fluttering about him, one might 



Sleepy Hollow 13 

have mistaken him for the genius of fam- 
ine descending upon the earth, or some 
scarecrow eloped from a cornfield. 
His school-house was a low building of one 
large room, rudely constructed of logs; the 
windows partly glazed, and partly patched 
with leaves of copy-books. It was most 
ingeniously secured at vacant hours by a 
withe twisted in the handle of the door, and 
stakes set against the window-shutters; so 
that though a thief might get in with perfect 
ease, he would find some embarrassment in 
getting out: — an idea most probably bor- 
rowed by the architect, Yost Van Houten, 
from the mystery of an eelpot. The school- 
house stood in a rather lonely but pleasant 
situation, just at the foot of a woody hill, 
with a brook running close by, and a for- 
midable birch-tree growing at one end of 
it. From hence the low murmur of his 
pupils' voices, conning over their lessons, 
might be heard of a drowsy summer's day, 
like the hum of a beehive; interrupted now 
and then by the authoritative voice of the 
master, in the tone of menace or command; 
or, peradventure, by the appalling sound of 
the birch, as he urged some tardy loiterer 
along the flowery path of knowledge. Truth 
to say, he was a conscientious man, that 
ever bore in mind the golden maxim, "spare 
the rod and spoil the child." — Ichabod 



14 The Legend of 

Crane's scholars certainly were not spoiled. 
I would not have it imagined, however, 
that he was one of those cruel potentates 
of the school, who joy in the smart of their 
subjects, on the contrary, he administered 
justice with discrimination rather than sev- 
erity; taking the burden off the backs of 
the weak, and laying it on those of the 
strong. Your mere puny stripling that 
winced at the least flourish of the rod, was 
passed by with indulgence; but the claims 
ofjusticewere satisfied by inflicting a double 
portion on some little, tough, wrong-head- 
ed, broad-skirted Dutch urchin, who sulk- 
ed and swelled and grew dogged and sullen 
beneath the birch. All this he called 
"doing his duty by their parents;" and he 
never inflicted a chastisement without fol- 
lowing it by the assurance, so consolatory 
to the smarting urchin, that "he would 
remember it and thank him for it the 
longest day he had to live." 
When school hours were over, he was even 
the companion and playmate of the larger 
boys; and on holiday afternoons would 
convoy some of the smaller ones home, 
who happened to have pretty sisters, or 
good housewives for mothers, noted for 
the comforts of the cupboard. Indeed, it 
behoved him to keep on good terms with 
his pupils. The revenue arising from his 



Sleepy Hollow 15 

school was small, and would have been 
scarcely sufficient to furnish him with daily 
bread, for he was a huge feeder, and though 
lank, had the dilating powers of an ana- 
conda; but to help out his maintenance, 
he was, according to the country custom 
in those parts, boarded and lodged at the 
houses of the farmers, whose children he 
instructed. With these he lived succes- 
sively, a week at a time, thus going the 
rounds of the neighborhood, with all his 
worldly effects tied up in a cotton hand- 
kerchief. 

That all this might not be too onerous on 
the purses of his rustic patrons, who are 
apt to consider the costs of schooling a 
grievous burden, and schoolmasters as 
mere drones, he had various ways of ren- 
dering himself both useful and agreeable. 
He assisted the farmers occasionally in the 
lighter labors of their farms; helped to 
make hay; mended the fences; took the 
horses to water; drove the cows from pas- 
ture; and cut wood for the winter fire. 
He laid aside, too, all the dominant digni- 
ty and absolute sway, with which he lord- 
ed it in his little empire, the school, and 
became wonderfully gentle and ingratiat- 
ing. He found favor in the eyes of the 
mothers, by petting the children, particu- 
larly the youngest; and like the lion bold. 



1 6 The Legend of 

which whilome so magnanimously the 
lamb did hold, he would sit with a child 
on one knee, and rock a cradle with his 
foot for whole hours together. 
In addition to his other vocations, he was 
the singing-master of the neighborhood, 
and picked up many bright shillings by 
instructing the young folks in psalmody. 
It was a matter of no little vanity to him 
on Sundays, to take his station in front of 
the church gallery, with a band of chosen 
singers; where, in his own mind, he com- 
pletely carried away the palm from the 
parson. Certain it is, his voice resounded 
far above all the rest of the congregation, 
and there are peculiar quavers still to be 
heard in that church, and which may even 
be heard half a mile off, quite to the op- 
posite side of the mill-pond, on a still Sun- 
day morning, which are said to be legiti- 
mately descended from the nose of Ichabod 
Crane. Thus, by divers little make-shifts, 
in that ingenious way which is commonly 
denominated "by hook and by crook," 
the worthy pedagogue got on tolerably 
enough, and was thought, by all who un- 
derstood nothing of the labor of head- 
work, to have a wonderful easy life of it. 
The school-master is generally a man of 
some importance in the female circle of a 
rural neighborhood; being considered a 



Sleepy Hollow 17 

kind of idle gentleman-like personage, of 
vastly superior taste and accomplishments 
to the rough country swains, and, indeed, 
inferior in learning only to the parson. 
His appearance, therefore, is apt to occa- 
sion some little stir at the tea-table of a 
farm-house, and the addition of a super- 
numerary dish of cakes or sweet-meats, or, 
peradventure, the parade of a silver teapot. 
Our man of letters, therefore, was pecu- 
liarly happy in the smiles of all the coun- 
try damsels. How he would figure among 
them in the churchyard, between services 
on Sundays! gathering grapes for them 
from the wild vines that overrun the sur- 
rounding trees; reciting for their amuse- 
ment all the epitaphs on the tomb-stones, 
or sauntering with a whole bevy of them, 
along the banks of the adjacent mill-pond; 
while the more bashful country bumpkins 
hung sheepishly back, envying his superior 
elegance and address. 

From his half itinerant life, also, he was a 
kind of travelling gazette, carrying the 
whole budget of local gossip from house to 
house; so that his appearance was always 
greeted with satisfaction. He was, more- 
over, esteemed by the women as a man of 
great erudition, for he had read several books 
quite through, and was a perfect master of 
Cotton Mather's History of New England 



1 8 The Legend of 

Witchcraft, in which, by the way, he 
most firmly and potently believed. 
He was, in fact, an odd mixture of small 
shrewdness and simple credulity. His appe- 
tite for the marvellous, and his powers of di- 
gesting it, were equally extraordinary; and 
both had been increased by his residence 
in this spell-bound region. No tale was 
too gross or monstrous for his capacious 
swallow. It was often his delight, after 
his school was dismissed in the afternoon, 
to stretch himself on the rich bed of clo- 
ver, bordering the little brook that whim- 
pered by his school-house, and there con 
over old Mather's direful tales, until the 
gathering dusk of evening made the print- 
ed page a mere mist before his eyes. Then, 
as he wended his way, by swamp and stream 
and awful woodland, to the farm-house 
where he happened to be quartered, every 
sound of nature, at that witching hour, 
fluttered his excited imagination ; the moan 
of the whip-poor-will* from the hill side; 
the boding cry of the tree-toad, that har- 
binger of storm; the dreary hooting of the 
screech-owl; or the sudden rustling in the 
thicket, of birds frightened from their roost. 
The fire-flies, too, which sparkled most 

*The whip-poor-will is a bird which is only heard at night. 
It receives its name from its notes which is thought to resem- 
ble those words. 



Sleepy Hollow 19 

vividly in the darkest places, now and then 
startled him, as one of uncommon bright- 
ness w^ould stream across his path ; and if, 
by chance, a huge blockhead of a beetle 
came winging his blundering flight against 
him, the poor varlet was ready to give up 
the ghost, with the idea that he was struck 
with a witch's token. His only resource 
on such occasions, either to drown thought, 
or drive away evil spirits, was to sing psalm 
tunes; — and the good people of Sleepy 
Hollow, as they sat by their doors of an 
evening, were often filled with awe, at 
hearing his nasal melody, "in linked sweet- 
ness long drawn out," floating from the 
distant hill, or along the dusky road. 
Another of his sources of fearful pleasure 
was, to pass long winter evenings with the 
old Dutch wives, as they sat spinning by 
the fire, with a row of apples roasting and 
sputtering along the hearth, and listen to 
their marvellous talesof ghosts, and goblins, 
and haunted fields and haunted brooks, and 
haunted bridges and haunted houses, and 
particularly of the headless horseman, or 
galloping Hessian of the Hollow, as they 
sometimes called him. He would delight 
them equally by his anecdotes of witch- 
craft, and of the direful omens and por- 
tentous sights and sounds in the air, which 
prevailed in the earlier times of Connecti- 



20 The Legend of 

cut; and would frighten them woefully with 
speculations upon comets and shooting stars, 
and with the alarming fact that the world 
did absolutely turn round, and that they 
were half the time topsy-turvy! 
But if there was a pleasure in all this, 
while snugly cuddling in the chimney cor- 
ner of a chamber that was all of a ruddy 
glow from the crackling wood fire, and 
where, of course, no spectre dared to show 
its face, it was dearly purchased by the 
terrors of his subsequent walk homewards. 
What fearful shapes and shadows beset his 
path, amidst the dim and ghastly glare of 
a snowy night! — With what wistful look 
did he eye every trembling ray of light 
streaming across the waste fields from some 
distant window! — How often was he ap- 
palled by some shrub covered with snow, 
which like a sheeted spectre beset his very 
path! — How often did he shrink with 
curdling awe at the sound of his own steps 
on the frosty crust beneath his feet; and 
dread to look over his shoulder, lest he 
should behold some uncouth being tramp- 
ing close behind him ! — and how often was 
he thrown into complete dismay by some 
rushing blast, howling among the trees, in 
the idea that it was the galloping Hessian 
on one of his nightly scourings! 
All these, however, were mere terrors 



Sleepy Hollow 21 

of the night, phantoms of the mind, that 
walk in darkness: and though he had seen 
many spectres in his time, and been more 
than once beset by Satan in divers shapes, 
in his lonely perambulations, yet daylight 
put an end to all these evils; and he would 
have passed a pleasant life of it, in despite 
of the Devil and all his works, if his path 
had not been crossed by a being that causes 
more perplexity to mortal man, than ghosts, 
goblins, and the whole race of witches put 
together; and that was — a woman. 
Among the musical disciples who assem- 
bled, one evening in each week, to re- 
ceive his instructions in psalmody, was 
Katrina Van Tassel, the daughter and only 
child of a substantial Dutch farmer. She 
was a blooming lass of fresh eighteen; plump 
as a partridge; ripe and melting and rosy- 
cheeked as one of her father's peaches, and 
universally famed, not merely for her 
beauty, but for her vast expectations. She 
was withal, a little of a coquette, as might 
be perceived even in her dress, which was 
a mixture of ancient and modern fashions, 
as most suited to set off her charms. She 
wore the ornaments of pure yellow gold, 
which her great-great-grandmother had 
brought over from Saardam; the tempting 
stomacher of the olden time, ?nd withal a 
provokingly short petticoat, to display the 



2 2 The Legend of 

prettiest foot and ankle in the country 
round. 

Ichabod Crane had a soft and foolish heart 
toward the sex; and it is not to be wonder- 
ed at, that so tempting a morsel soon found 
favor in his eyes, more especially after he 
had visited her in her paternal mansion. 
Old Baltus Van Tassel was a perfect picture 
of a thriving, contented, liberal-hearted 
farmer. He seldom, it is true, sent either 
his eyes or his thoughts beyond the bound- 
aries of his own farm; but within these, 
everything was snug, happy and well-con- 
ditioned. He was satisfied with his wealth, 
but not proud of it; and piqued himself up- 
oo the hearty abundance, rather than the 
style in which he lived. His stronghold 
was situated on the banks of the Hudson, 
in one of those green, sheltered, fertile nooks, 
in which the Dutch farmers are so fond of 
nestling. A great elm-tree spread its broad 
branches over it; at the foot of which bub- 
bled up a spring of the softest and sweetest 
water, in a little well, formed of a barrel; 
and then stole sparkling away through the 
grass, to a neigboring brook, that babbled 
along among the alders and dwarf willows. 
Hard by the farm-house was a vast barn, 
that might have served for a church; every 
window and crevice of which seemed burst- 
ing forth with the treasures of the farm ; 



Sleepy Hollow 23 

the flail was busily resounding within it 
from morning to night; swallows and 
martins skimmed twittering about the 
eaves; and rows of pigeons, some with one 
eye turned up, as if watching the weather, 
some with their heads under their wings, 
or buried in their bosoms, and others, swell- 
ing, and cooing, and bowing about their 
dames, were enjoying the sunshine on the 
roof. Sleek, unwieldy porkers were grunt- 
ing in the repose and abundance of their 
pt ns, from whence sallied forth, now and 
then, troops of sucking pigs, as if to snufF 
the air. A stately squadron of snowy geese 
were riding in an adjoining pond, convoy- 
ing whole fleets of ducks; regiments of 
turkeys were gobbling through the farm- 
yard, and guinea-fowls fretting about it like 
ill-tempered housewives, with their peev- 
ish, discontented cry. Before the barn door 
strutted the gallant cock, that pattern of a 
husband, a warrior, and a fine gentlemen; 
clapping his burnished wings and crowing 
in the pride and gladness of his heart — 
sometimes tearing up the earth with his 
feet, and then generously calling his ever- 
hungry family of wives and children to enjoy 
the rich morsel which he had discovered. 
The pedagogue's mouth watered, as he 
looked upon this sumptuous promise of 
luxurious winter fare. In his devouring 



24 The Legend of 

mind's eye, he pictured to himself every 
roasting pig running about, with a pudding 
in its belly, and an apple in its mouth; the 
pigeons were snugly put to bed in a com- 
fortable pie, and tucked in with a coverlet 
of crust; the geese were swimming in their 
own gravy; and the ducks paring cosily in 
dishes, like snug married couples, with a 
decent competency of onion sauce. In the 
porkers he saw carved out the future 
sleek side of bacon, and juicy relishing 
ham; not a turkey, but he beheld dainti y 
trussed up, with its gizzard under its wing, 
and, peradventure, a necklace of savory 
sausages; and even bright chanticleer him- 
self lay sprawling on his back, in a side 
dish, with uplifted claws, as if craving that 
quarter which his chivalrous spirit disdain- 
ed to ask while living. 
As the enraptured Ichabod fancied all 
this, and as he rolled his great green eyes 
over the fat meadow lands, the rich fields 
of wheat, of rye, of buckwheat, and Indian 
corn, and the orchards burdened with ruddy 
fruit, which surrounded the warm tene- 
ment of Van Tassel, his heart yearned after 
the damsel who was to inherit these do- 
mains, and his imagination expanded with 
the idea, how they might be readily turned 
into cash, and the money invested in im- 
mense tracts of wild lands and shingle 



Sleepy Hollow 25 

palaces in the wilderness. Nay, his busy 
fancy already realized his hopes, and present- 
ed to him the blooming Katrina, with a 
whole family of children, mounted on the 
top of a wagon loaded with household trum- 
pery, with pots and kettles dangling beneath ; 
and he beheld himself bestriding a pacing 
mare, with a colt at her heels, setting out 
for Kentucky, Tennessee — or the Lord 
knows where! 

When he entered the house, the conquest 
of his heart was complete. It was one of 
those spacious farm-houses, with high ridg- 
ed, but lowly-sloping roofs, built in the 
style handed down from the first Dutch 
settlers. The low projecting eaves form- 
ing a piazza along the front, capable of 
being closed up in bad weather. Under 
this were hung flails, harness, various uten- 
sils of husbandry, and nets for fishing in 
the neighboring river. Benches were built 
along the sides for summer use; and a 
great spinning-wheel at one end, and a 
churn at the other, showed the various 
uses to which this important porch might 
be devoted. From this piazza the won- 
derful Ichabod entered the hall, which 
formed the center of the mansion, and the 
place of usual residence. Here rows of 
resplendent pewter, ranged on a long dres- 
ser, dazzled his eyes. In one corner stood 



26 The Legend of 

a huge bag of wool, ready to be spun ; in 
another, a quantity of Hnsey-wolsey, just 
from the loom; ears of Indian corn, and 
strings of dried apples and peaches, hung 
in gay festoons along the walls, mingled 
with the gaud of red peppers ; and a door 
left ajar, gave him a peep into the best 
parlor, where the claw-footed chairs, and 
dark mahogany tables, shone like mirrors; 
andirons, with their accompanying shovel 
and tongs, glistened from their covert of 
asparagus tops; mock-oranges and conch 
shells decorated the mantlepiece; strings of 
various colored birds* eggs were suspended 
above it; a great ostrich egg was hung from 
the center of the room, and a corner cup- 
board, knowingly left open, displayed im- 
mense treasures of old silver and well- 
mended china. 

From the moment Ichabod laid his eyes 
upon these regions of delight, the peace of 
his mind was at an end, and his only study 
was how to gain the affections of the peer- 
less daughter of Van Tassel. In this enter- 
prise, however, he had more real difficult- 
ies than generally fell to the lot of a knight- 
errant of yore, who seldom had anything 
but giants, enchanters, fiery dragons, and 
such like easily conquered adversaries, to 
contend with; and had to make his way 
merely through gates of iron and brass, and 



Sleepy Hollow 27 

walls of adamant to the castle-keep where 
the lady of his heart was confined; all 
which he achieved as easily as a man would 
carve his way to the center of a Christmas 
pie, and then the lady gave him her hand 
as a matter of course. Ichabod, on the 
contrary, had to win his way to the heart 
of a country coquette beset with a labyrinth 
of whims and caprices, which were for ever 
presenting new difficulties and impedi- 
ments, and he had to encounter a host of 
fearful adversaries of real flesh and blood, 
the numerous rustic admirers, who beset 
every portal to her heart; keeping a watch- 
ful and angry eye upon each other, but 
ready to fly out in the common cause against 
any new competitor 

Among these the most formidable was 
a burly, roaring, roystering blade of the 
name of Abraham, or according to the 
Dutch abbreviation, Brom Van Brunt, the 
hero of the country round, which rung 
with his feats of strength and hardihood. 
He was broad-shouldered and double-joint- 
ed, with short curly black hair, and a bluff 
but not unpleasant countenance, having a 
mingled air of fun and arrogance. From 
his Herculean frame and great powers of 
limb, he had received the nickname of 
Brom Bones, by which he was universally 
known. He was famed for great knowl- 



2 8 The Legend of 

edge and skill in horsemanship, being as 
dexterous on horseback as a Tartar. He 
was foremost at all races and cock-fights, and 
with the ascendancy which bodily strength 
always acquires in rustic life, was the um- 
pire in all disputes, setting his hat on one 
side, and giving his decisions with an air 
and tone that admitted of no gainsay or 
appeal. 

He was always ready for either a fight or 
a frolic; had more mischief than ill-will in 
his composition; and with all his overbear- 
ing roughness there was a strong dash of 
waggish good-humor at bottom. He had 
three or four boon companions of his own 
stamp, who regarded him as their model, 
and at the head of whom he scoured the 
country, attending every scene of feud or 
merriment for miles round. In cold weath- 
er he was distinguished by a fur cap, sur- 
mounted with a flaunting fox's tail; and 
when the folks at a country gathering de- 
scried this well-known crest at a distance, 
whisking about among a squad of hard 
riders, they always stood by for a squall. 
Sometimes his crew would be heard dash- 
ing along past the farmhouses at midnight, 
with whoop and halloo, like a troop of 
Don Cossacks, and the old dames, startled 
out of their sleep, would listen for a mo- 
ment till the hurry-scurry had clattered by. 



Sleepy Hollow 29 

and then exclaim, "Ay, there goes Brom 
Bones and his gangP' 
The neighbors looked upon him with a 
mixture, of awe, admiration, and good- will; 
when any madcap prank or rustic brawl 
occurred in the vicinity, always shook their 
heads, and warranted Brom Bones was at 
the bottom of it. 

This rantipole hero had for some time sin- 
gled out the blooming Katrina for the object 
of his uncouth gallantries, and though his 
amorous toyings were something like the 
gentle caresses and endearments of a bear, 
yet it was whispered that she did not al- 
together discourage his hopes. Certain it 
is, his advances were signals for rival can- 
didates to retire, who felt no inclination to 
cross a lion in his amours; insomuch, that 
when his horse was seen tied to Van Tassel's 
paling, on a Sunday night, a sure sign that 
his master was courting, or, as it is termed, 
** sparking," within, all other suitors passed 
by in despair, and carried the war into 
other quarters. 

Such was the formidable rival with whom 
Ichabod Crane had to contend, and con- 
sidering all things, a stouter man than he 
would have shrunk from the competition, 
and a wiser man would have despaired. 
He had, however, a happy mixture of pli- 
ability and perseverance in his nature; he 



30 The Legend of 

was in form and spirit like a supple-jack — 
yielding, but tough; though he bent, he 
never broke; and though he bowed beneath 
the slightest pressure, yet the moment it 
was away — -jerk! — he was as erect, and 
carried his head as high as ever. 
To have taken the field openly against his 
rival, would have been madness; for he was 
not man a to be thwarted in his amours, 
any more than that stony lover, Achilles. 
Ichabod, therefore, made his advances in a 
a quiet and gently-insinuating manner. 
Under cover of his character of singing- 
master, he made frequent visits at the farm- 
house; not that he had anything to ap- 
prehend from the meddlesome interference 
of parents, which is so often a stumbling- 
block in the path of lovers. Bait Van Tassel 
was an easy indulgent soul; he loved his 
daughter better even than his pipe, and, like 
a reasonable man, and an excellent father, 
let her have her way in everything. His 
notable little wife, too, had enough to do 
to attend to her housekeeping and manage 
the poultry; for, as she sagely observed, 
ducks and geese are foolish things, and must 
be looked after, but girls can take care of 
themselves. Thus, while the busy dame 
bustled about the house, or plied her spin- 
ning-wheel at one end of the piazza, honest 
Bait would sit smoking his evening pipe 



Sleepy Hollow 3 i 

at the other, watching the achievements of 
a little wooden warrior, who, armed with 
a sword in each hand, was most valiantly 
fighting the wind on the pinnacle of 
the barn. In the meantime, Ichabod 
would carry on his suit with the daughter 
by the side of the spring under the great 
elm, or sauntering along in the twilight, 
that hour so favorable to the lover's 
eloquence. 

I profess not to know how women's hearts 
are wooed and won. To me they have al- 
ways been matters of riddle and admiration. 
Some seem to have but one vulnerable 
point, or door of access; while others have a 
thousand avenues, and may be captured in 
a thousand different ways. It is a great 
triumph of skill to gain the former, but a 
still greater proof of generalship to main- 
tain possession of the latter, for a man must 
battle for his fortress at every door and win- 
dow. He that wins a thousand common 
hearts, is therefore entitled to some renown; 
but he who keeps undisputed sway over the 
heart of a coquette, is indeed a hero. Cer- 
tain it is this, was not the case with the 
redoubtable Brom Bones; and from the mo- 
ment Ichabod Crane made his advances, the 
interests of the former evidently declined: 
his horse was no longer seen tied at the 
palings on Sunday nights, and a deadly feud 



32 The Legend of 

gradually arose between him and the pre- 
ceptor of Sleepy Hollow. 
Brom, who had a degree of rough chivalry 
in his nature, would fain have carried mat- 
ters to open warfare, and settled their pre- 
tensions to the lady, according to the mode 
of those most concise and simple reasoners, 
the knights errant of yore — by single com- 
bat; but Ichabod was too conscious of the 
superior might of his adversary to enter the 
lists against him; he had overheard the 
boast of Bones, that he would " double the 
schoolmaster up, and put him on a shelf;'* 
and he was too wary to give him an op- 
portunity. There was something extremely 
provoking in this obstinately pacific system; 
it left Brom no alternative but to draw 
upon the funds of rustic waggery in his 
disposition, and to play off boorish practi- 
cal jokes upon his rival. Ichabod became 
the object of whimsical persecution to 
Bones, and his gang of rough riders. They 
harried his hitherto peaceful domains; 
smoked out his singing school, by stopping 
up the chimney; broke into the school house 
at night, in spite of his formidable fastenings 
of withe and window stakes, and turned 
everything topsy-turvy; so that the poor 
schoolmaster began to think all the witches 
in the country held their meetings there. 
But what was still more annoying, Brom 



Sleepy Hollow 33 

took all opportunities of turning him into 
ridicule in presence of his mistress, and had 
a scoundrel dog whom he taught to whine 
in the most ludicrous manner, and intro- 
duced as a rival of Ichabod's, to instruct 
her in psalmody. 

In this way, matters went on for some time, 
without producing any material effect on the 
relative situations of the contending pow- 
ers. On a fine autumnal afternoon, Icha- 
bod, in pensive mood, sat enthroned on the 
lofty stool from whence he usually watched 
all the concerns of his little literary realm. 
In his hand he swayed a ferule, that sceptre 
of despotic power; the birch of justice re- 
posed on three nails, behind the throne, a 
constant terror to evil doers; while on the 
desk before him might be seen sundry 
contraband articles and prohibited weap- 
ons, detected upon the persons of idle 
urchins; such as half-munched apples, pop- 
guns, whirligigs, fly-cages, and whole le- 
gions of rampant little paper game-cocks. 
Apparently there had been some appaling 
act of justice recently inflicted, for his 
scholars were all busily intent upon their 
books, or slyly whispering behind them 
with one eye kept upon the master; and a 
kind of buzzing stillness reigned through- 
out the schoolroom. It was suddenly in- 
terrupted by the appearance of a negro in 



34 The Legend of 

tow-cloth jacket and trousers, a round- 
crowned fragment of a hat, like the cap of 
Mercury, and mounted on the back of a 
ragged, wild, half-broken colt, which he 
managed with a rope by way of halter. 
He came clattering up to the school-door 
with an invitation to Ichabod to attend a 
merry-making, or "quilting frolic," to be 
held that evening at Mynheer Van Tassel's; 
and having delivered his message with that 
air of importance, and effort at fine lan- 
guage, which a negro is apt to display on 
petty embassies of the kind, he dashed over 
the brook, and was seen scampering away 
up the hollow, full of the importance and 
hurry of his mission. 

All was now bustle and hubbub in the late 
quiet school- room. The scholars were hur- 
ried through their lessons, without stopping 
at trifles; those who were nimble, skipped 
over half with impunity, and those who were 
tardy, had a smart application now and then 
in the rear, to quicken their speed, or help 
over a tall word. Books were flung aside, 
without being put away on the shelves; ink- 
stands were overturned, benches thrown 
down, and the whole school was turned loose 
an hour before the usual time; bursting forth 
like a legion of young imps, yelping and 
racketing about the green, in joy at their 
early emancipation. 



Sleepy Hollow 35 

The gallant Ichabod now spent at least an 
extra half-hour at his toilet, brushing and 
furbishing up his best, and indeed only suit 
of rusty black, and arranging his locks by 
a bit of broken looking glass, that hung 
up in the school house. That he might 
make his appearance before his mistress in 
the true style of a cavalier, he borrowed a 
horse from the farmer with whom he was 
domiciliated, a choleric old Dutchman, of 
the name of Hans Van Ripper, and thus 
gallantly mounted, issued forth like a 
knight-errant in quest of adventures. But 
it is meet I should, in the true spirit of 
romantic story, give some account of the 
looks and equipmencs of my hero and his 
steed. The animal he bestrode was a 
broken-down plow-horse, that had out- 
lived almost everything but his viciousness. 
He was gaunt and shagged, with a ewe neck 
and a head like a hammer; his rusty mane 
and tail were tangled and knotted with 
burrs; one eye had lost its pupil, and was 
glaring and spectral, but the other had the 
gleam of a genuine devil in it. Still he 
must have had fire and mettle in his day, 
if we may judge from his name, which 
was Gunpowder. He had, in fact, been a 
favorite steed of his master's, the choleric 
Van Ripper, who was a furious rider, and 
had infused, very probably, some of his 



36 The Legend of 

own spirit into the animal; for, old and 
broken-down as he looked, there was more 
of the lurking devil in him than in any 
young filly in the country. 
Ichabod was a suitable figure for such a 
steed. He rode with short stirrups, which 
brought his knees nearly up to the pom- 
mel of the saddle; his sharp elbows stuck 
out like grasshoppers'; he carried his whip 
perpendicularly in his hand, like a sceptre, 
and as the horse jogged on, the motion of 
his arms was not unlike the flapping of a 
pair of wings. A small, wool hat rested 
on the top of his nose, for so his scanty 
strip of forehead might be called, and the 
skirts of his black coat fluttered out almost 
to the horse's tail. Such was the appear- 
ance of Ichabod and his steed as they sham- 
bled out of the gate of Hans Van Ripper, 
and it was altogether such an apparition as 
is seldom to be met with in broad daylight. 
It was, as I have said, a fine autumnal day; 
the sky was clear and serene, and nature 
wore that rich and golden livery which we 
always associate with the idea of abund- 
ance. The forests had put on their sober 
brown and yellow, while some trees of 
the tenderer kind had been nipped by the 
frosts into brilliant dyes of orange, purple, 
and scarlet. Streaming files of wild ducks 
began to make their appearance high in 



Sleepy Hollow 37 

the air; the bark of the squirrel might be 
heard from the groves of beech and hickory- 
nuts, and the pensive whistle of the quail 
at intervals from the neighboring stubble 
field. 

The small birds were taking their fare- 
well banquets. In the fullness of their 
revelry they fluttered, chirping and frolick- 
ing, from bush to bush, and tree to tree, 
capricious from the very profusion and 
variety around them. There was the honest 
cock-robin, the favorite game of stripling 
sportsmen, with its loud querulous note, and 
the twittering blackbirds, flying in sable 
clouds; and the golden- winged woodpecker, 
with his crimson crest, his broad black gor- 
get, and splendid plumage; and the cedar- 
bird, with its red-tipped wings and yellow- 
tipped tail, and its little monterio cap of fea- 
thers; and the blue-jay, that noisy coxcomb, 
in his gay light blue coat and white under- 
clothes, screaming and chattering, nodding 
and bobbing, and bowing, and pretending to 
be on good terms with every songster of the 
grove. 

As Ichabod jogged slowly on his way, his 
eye, ever open to every symptom of culin- 
ary abundance, ranged with delight over 
the treasures of jolly autumn. On all sides 
he beheld vast stores of apples, some hang- 
ing in oppressive opulence on the trees; some 



38 The Legend of 

gathered into baskets and barrels for the mar- 
ket; others heaped up in rich piles for the 
cider-press. Farther on he beheld great 
fields of Indian corn, with its golden ears 
peeping from their leafy coverts, and hold- 
ing out the promise of cakes and hssty- 
pudding; and the yellow pumpkins lying 
beneath them, turning up their fair round 
bellies to the sun, and giving ample pro- 
spects of the most luxurious of pies; and 
anon he passed the fragrant buckwheat 
fields, breathing the odor of the bee-hive, 
and as he beheld them, soft anticipations 
stole over his mind of dainty slap-jacks, well 
buttered, and garnished with honey or 
treacle, by the delicate little dimpled hand 
of Katrina Van Tassel. 
Thus feeding his mind with many sweet 
thoughts and "sugared suppositions,'* he 
journeyed along the sides of a range of hills 
which look out upon some of the goodliest 
scenes of the mighty Hudson. The sun 
gradually wheeled his broad disk down in- 
to the west. The wide bosom of the 
Tappaan Zee lay motionless and glassy, 
excepting that here and there a gentle un- 
dulation waved and prolonged the blue 
shadow of the distant mountain. A few 
amber clouds floated in the sky, without 
a breath of air to move them. The hori- 
zon was of a fine golden tint, changing 



Sleepy Hollow 39 

gradually into a pure apple green, and from 
that into the deep blue of the mid-heaven. 
A slanting ray lingered on the woody crests 
of the precipices that overhung some parts 
of the river, giving greater depth to the 
dark gray and purple of their rocky sides. 
A sloop was loitering in the distance, drop- 
ping slowly down with the tide, her sail 
hanging uselessly against the mast; and as 
the reflection of the sky gleamed along the 
still water, it seemed as if the vessel was 
suspended in the air. 

It was toward evening that Ichabod arriv- 
ed at the castle of the Heer Van Tassel, 
which he found thronged with the pride 
and flower of the adjacent country. Old 
farmers, a spare leathern-faced race, in 
homespun coat and breeches, blue stock- 
ings, huge shoes, and magnificent pew- 
ter buckles. Their brisk, withered little 
dames, in close crimped caps, long waisted 
gowns, homespun petticoats, with scissors 
and pin cushions, and gay calico pockets 
hanging on the outside. Buxom lasses, 
almost as antiquated as their mothers, ex- 
cepting where a straw hat, a fine riband, 
or perhaps a white frock, gave symptoms 
of city innovations. The sons, in short, 
square-skirted coats, with rows of stupend- 
ous brass buttons, and their hair generally 
queued in the fashion of the times, espec- 



40 The Legend of 

ially if they could procure an eelskin for 
the purpose, it being esteemed throughout 
the country, as a potent nourisher and 
strengthener of the hair. 
Brom Bones, however, was the hero of 
the scene, having come to the gathering 
on his favorite steed Daredevil, a creature, 
like himself, full of mettle and mischief, 
and which no one but himself could man- 
age. He was, in fact, noted for preferr- 
ing vicious animals, given to all kinds of 
tricks which kept the rider in constant 
risk of his neck, for he held a tractable 
well-broken horse as unworthy of a lad of 
spirit. 

Fain would I pause to dwell upon the 
world of charms that burst upon the en- 
raptured gaze of my hero, as he entered 
the state parlor of Van Tassel's mansion. 
Not those of the bevy of buxom lasses, 
with their luxurious display of red and 
white; but the ample charms of a genuine 
Dutch country tea-table, in the sumptuous 
time of autumn. Such heaped-up platters 
of cakes of various and almost indescrib- 
able kinds, known only to experienced 
Dutch housewives ! There was the doughty 
dough-nut, the tender oly-koek, and the 
crisp and crumbling cruller; sweet cakes 
and short cakes, ginger cakes and honey 
cakes, and the whole family of cakes. 



Sleepy Hollow 41 

And then there were apple pies, and peach 
pies, and pumpkin pies; besides slices of 
ham and smoked beef; and moreover de- 
lectable dishes of preserved plums, and 
peaches, and pears, and quinces; not to 
mention broiled shad and roasted chickens; 
together w^ith bowls of milk and cream, 
all mingled higgledy-piggledy, pretty m uch 
as I have enumerated them, with the 
motherly tea-pot sending up its clouds of 
vapor from the midst — Heaven bless the 
mark! I want breath and time to discuss 
this banquet as it deserves, and am too 
eager to get on with my story. Happily, 
Ichabod Crane was not in so great a hurry 
as his historian, but did ample justice to 
every dainty. 

He was a kind and thankful creature, 
whose heart dilated in proportion as his 
skin was filled with good cheer, and whose 
spirits rose with eating, as some men's do 
with drink. He could not help, too, roll- 
ing his large eyes round him as he ate, 
and chuckling with the possibility that 
he might one day be lord of all this scene 
of almost unimaginable luxury and splen- 
dor. Then, he thought, how soon he'd turn 
his back upon the old school-house; snap 
his fingers in the face of Hans Van Rip- 
per, and every other niggardly patron, 
and kick any itinerant pedagogue out of 



42 The Legend of 

doors that should dare to call him comrade! 
Old Baltus Van Tassel moved about among 
his guests with a face dilated with content 
and good-humor, round and jolly as the 
harvest moon. His hospitable attentions 
were brief, but expressive, being confined 
to a shake of the hand, a slap on the 
shoulder, a loud laugh, and a pressing in- 
vitation to "fall to, and help themselves." 
And now the sound of the music from 
the common room, or hall, summoned to 
the dance. The musician was an old 
gray-headed negro, who had been the itin- 
erant orchestra of the neighborhood for 
more than half a century. His instrument 
was as old and battered as himself. The 
greater part of the time he scraped away 
on two or three strings, accompanying 
every movement of the bow with a mo- 
tion of the head, bowing almost to the 
ground, and stamping with his foot when- 
ever a fresh couple were to start. 
Ichabod prided himself upon his dancing 
as much as upon his vocal powers. Not 
a limb, not a fibre about him was idle; 
and to have seen his loosely hung frame 
in full motion, and clattering about the 
room, you would have thought St. Vitus 
himself, that blessed patron of the dance, 
was figuring before you in person. He 
was the admiration of all the negroes; who. 



Sleepy Hollow 43 

having gathered, of all ages and sizes, from 
the farm and the neighborhood, stood 
forming a pyramid of shining black faces 
at every door and w^indow; gazing vs^ith 
delight at the scene; rolling their white 
eyeballs, and showing grinning rows of 
ivory from ear to ear. How could the 
flogger of urchins be otherwise than ani- 
mated and joyous? the lady of his heart was 
his partner in the dance, and smiling gra- 
ciously in reply to all his amorous oglings; 
while Brom Bones, sorely smitten with love 
and jealousy, sat brooding by himself in one 
corner. 

When the dance was at an end, Ichabod 
was attracted to a knot of the sager folks, 
who, with Old Van Tassel, sat smoking at 
one end of the piazza, gossiping over for- 
mer times, and drawling out long stories 
about the war. 

This neighborhood, at the time of which 
I am speaking, was one of those highly fav- 
ored places which abound with chronicle 
and great men. The British and American 
line had run near it during the war; it had, 
therefore, been the scene of marauding, and 
infested with refugees, cow-boys, and all 
kinds of border chivalry. Just sufficient 
time had elapsed to enable each story-teller 
to dress up his tale with a little becoming 
fiction, and, in the indistinctness of his 



44 The Legend of 

recollection, to make himself the hero of 
every exploit. 

There was the story of DofFue Martling, 
a large blue-bearded Dutchman, who had 
nearly taken a British frigate with an old 
iron nine-pounder from a mud breastwork, 
only that his gun burst at the sixth discharge. 
And there was an old gentleman who shall 
be nameless, being too rich a mynheer to 
be lightly mentioned, who, in the battle of 
White Plains, being an excellent master of 
defence, parried a musket-ball with a small- 
sword, insomuch that he absolutely felt it 
whiz round the blade, and glance off at the 
hilt; in proof of which he was ready at any 
time to show the sword, with the hilt a 
little bent. There were several more that 
had been equally great in the field, not one 
of whom but was persuaded that he had a 
considerable hand in bringing the war to a 
happy termination. 

But all these were nothing to the tales 
of ghosts and apparitions that succeeded. 
The neighborhood is rich in legendary trea- 
sures of the kind. Local tales and super- 
stitions thrive best in these sheltered, long- 
settled retreats, but are trampled under foot 
by the shifting throng that forms the pop- 
ulation of most of our country places. 
Besides, there is no encouragement for 
ghosts in most of our villages, for they have 



Sleepy Hollow 45 

scarcely had time to finish their first nap 
and turn themselves in their graves, before 
their surviving friends have traveled away 
from the neighborhood: so that w^hen they 
turn out at night to w^alk their rounds, they 
have no acquaintance left to call upon. This 
is perhaps the reason w^hy we so seldom 
hear of ghosts except in our long-established 
Dutch communities. 

The immediate cause, however, of the 
prevalence of supernatural stories in these 
parts was, doubtless, owing to the vicinity 
of Sleepy Hollow. There was a contagion 
in the very air that blew from that haunted 
region; it breathed forth an atmosphere of 
dreams and fancies infecting all the land. 
Several of the Sleepy Hollow people were 
present at Van Tassel's, and, as usual, were 
doling out their wild and wonderful legends. 
Many dismal tales were told about funeral 
trains, and mourning cries and wailings 
heard and seen about the great tree where 
the unfortunate Major Andre was taken, 
and which stood in the neighborhood. 
Some mention was made also of the woman 
in white, that haunted the dark glen at 
Raven Rock, and was often heard to shriek 
on winter nights before a storm, having per- 
ished there in the snow. The chief part 
of the stories, however, turned upon the 
favorite spectre of Sleepy Hollow, the head- 



46 The Legend of 

less horseman, who had been heard several 
times of late, patrolling the country; and 
it is said, tethered his horse nightly among 
the graves in the churchyard. 
The sequestered situation of this church 
seems always to have made it a favorite 
haunt of troubled spirits. It stands on a 
knoll, surrounded by locust-trees and lofty 
elms, from among which its descent, white- 
washed walls shine modestly forth, like 
Christian purity, beaming through the 
shades of retirement. A gentle slope de- 
scends from it to a silver sheet of water, 
bordered by high trees, between which, 
peeps may be caught at the blue hills of 
the Hudson. To look upon this grass- 
grown yard, where the sunbeams seem to 
sleep so quietly, one would think that there 
at least the dead might rest in peace. On 
one side of the church extends a wide woody 
dell, along which raves a large brook 
among broken rocks and trunks of fallen 
trees. Over a deep black part of the stream, 
not far from the church, was formerly 
thrown a wooden bridge; the road that led 
to it, and the bridge itself, were thickly 
shaded by overhanging trees, which cast a 
gloom about it, even in the day-time; but 
occasioned a fearful darkness at night. Such 
was one of the favorite haunts of the headless 
horseman, and the place where he was most 



Sleepy Hollow 47 

frequently encountered. The tale was told 
of old Brouwer, a most heretical disbeliver 
in ghosts, how he met the horseman return- 
ing from his foray into Sleepy Hollow, 
and was obliged to get up behind him; 
how they galloped over bush and brake, 
over hill and swamp, until they reached the 
bridge, when the horseman suddenly turned 
into a skeleton, threw old Brouwer into the 
brook, and sprang away over the tree-tops 
with a clap of thunder. 
This story was immediately matched by a 
thrice marvelous adventure of Brom Bones, 
who made light of the galloping Hessian 
as an arrant jockey. He affirmed that, on 
returning one night from the neighboring 
village of Sing Sing, he had been overtaken 
by this midnight trooper; that he offered 
to race with him for a bowl of punch, and 
should have won it too, for Daredevil beat 
the goblin horse all hollow, but just as they 
came to the church bridge, the Hessian 
bolted, and vanished in a flash of fire. 
All these tales, told in that drowsy under 
tone with which men talk in the dark, 
the countenances of the listeners only now 
and then receiving a casual gleam from the 
glare of a pipe, sunk deep in the mind of 
Ichabod. He repaid them in kind with 
large extracts from his invaluable author. 
Cotton Mather, and added many marvel- 



48 The Legend of 

oub events that had taken place in his na- 
tive State of Connecticut, and fearful sights 
which he had seen in his nightly w^alks about 
Sleepy Hollow. 

The revel now gradually broke up. The 
old farmers gathered together their families 
in their wagons, and were heard for some 
time rattling along the hollow roads, and 
over the distant hills. Some of the damsels 
mounted on pillions behind their favorite 
swains, and their light-hearted laughter, 
mingling with the clatter of hoofs, echoed 
along the silent woodlands, sounding faint- 
er and fainter, until they gradually died 
away — and the late scene of noise and fro- 
lic was all silent and deserted. Ichabod 
only lingered behind, according to the cus- 
tom of country lovers, to have a tete-a-tete 
with the heiress, fully convinced that he 
was now on the high road to success. What 
passed at this interview I will not pretend 
to say, for in fact I do not know. Some- 
thing, however, I fear me, must have gone 
wrong, for he certainly sallied forth, after 
no very great interval, with an air quite 
desolate and chapfallen — Oh, these women! 
these women! Could that girl have been 
playing off any of her coquettish tricks? — 
Was her encouragement of the poor ped- 
agogue all a mere sham to secure her con- 
quest of his rival? — Heaven only knows. 



Sleepy Hollow 49 

not I! — let it suffice to say, Ichabod stole 
forth with the air of one who had been 
sacking a henroost, rather than a fair lady's 
heart. Without looking to the right or 
left to notice the scene of rural wealth, on 
which he had so often gloated, he went 
straight to the stable, and with several 
hearty cuffs and kicks, roused his steed most 
uncourteously from the comfortable quar- 
ters in which he was soundly sleeping, 
dreaming of mountains of corn and oats, 
and whole valleys of timothy and clover. 
It was the very witching time of night 
that Ichabod, heavy-hearted and crest-fal- 
len, pursued his travel homewards, along 
the sides of the lofty hills which rise above 
Tarrytown, and which he had traversed 
so cheerily in the afternoon. The hour 
was as dismal as himself. Far below him 
the Tappaan Zee spread its dusky and in- 
distinct waste of waters, with here and there 
the tall mast of a sloop, riding quietly at 
anchor under the land. In the dead hush 
of midnight he could even hear the bark- 
ing of the watchdog from the opposite side 
of the Hudson, but it was so vague and 
faint as only to give an idea of his distance 
from this faithful companion of man. Now 
and then, too, the long-drawn crowing of 
a cock, accidentally awakened, would sound 
far, far off, from some farm-house, away 



50 The Legend of 

among the hills — but it was like a dream- 
ing sound in his ear. No signs of life 
occurred near him, but occasionally the 
melancholy chirp of a cricket, or perhaps 
the gutteral twang of a bull- frog from a 
neighboring marsh, as if sleeping uncom- 
fortably, and turning suddenly in his bed. 
All the stories of ghosts and goblins that 
he had heard in the afternoon now came 
crowding upon his recollection. The night 
grew darker and darker; the stars seemed 
to sink deeper in the sky, and driving clouds 
occasionally hid them from his sight. He 
had never felt so lonely and dismal. He 
was, moreover, approaching the very place 
where many of the scenes of the ghost stories 
had been laid. In the center of the road 
stood an enormous tulip-tree, which tower- 
ed like a giant above all the other trees of 
the neighborhood, and formed a kind of 
landmark. Its limbs were gnarled and 
fantastic, large enough to form trunks for 
ordinary trees, twisting down almost to the 
earth, and rising again into the air. It was 
connected with the tragical story of the 
unfortunate Andre, who had been taken 
prisoner hard by, and was universally known 
by the name of Major Andre's tree. The 
common people regarded it with a mixture 
of respect and superstition, partly out of 
sympathy for the fate ofits ill-starred name- 



Sleepy Hollow 5 i 

sake, and partly from the tales of strange 
sights and doleful lamentations told con- 
cerning it. 

As Ichabod approached this fearful tree, he 
began to whistle; he thought his whistle 
was answered; it was but a blast sweeping 
sharply through the dry branches. As he 
approached a little nearer, he thought he 
saw something white, hanging in the midst 
of the tree; he paused, and ceased whistling; 
but on looking more narrowly, perceived 
that it was a place where the tree had been 
scathed by lightning, and the white wood 
laid bare. Suddenly he heard a groan — 
his teeth chattered, and his knees smote 
against the saddle: it was but the rubbing 
of one huge bough upon another, as they 
were swayed about by the breeze. He 
passed the tree in safety, but new perils lay 
before him. 

About two hundred yards from the tree, 
a small brook crossed the road, and ran 
into a marshy and thickly-wooded glen, 
known by the name of Wiley's Swamp. 
A few rough logs, laid side by side, served 
for a bridge over this stream. On that side 
of the road where the brook entered the 
wood, a group of oaks and chestnuts, mat- 
ted thick with wild grape-vines, threw a 
cavernous gloom over it. To pass this 
bridge, was the severest trial. It was at 



52 The Legend of 

this identical spot that the unfortunate An- 
dre was captured, and under the covert of 
those chestnuts and vines were the sturdy 
yoemen concealed who surprised him. 
This has ever since been considered a 
haunted stream, and fearful are the feelings 
of a school-boy who has to pass it alone 
after dark. 

As he approached the stream, his heart be- 
gan to thump; he summoned up, however, 
all his resolution, gave his horse half a score 
of kicks in the ribs and attempted to dash 
briskly across the bridge; but instead of 
starting forward, the perverse old animal 
made a lateral movement, and ran broad- 
side against the fence. Ichabod, whose 
fears increased with the delay, jerked the 
reins on the other side, and kicked lustily 
with the contrary foot: it was all in vain; 
his steed started, it is true, but it was only tc 
plunge to the opposite side of the road into a 
thicket of brambles and alder-bushes. The 
schoolmaster now bestowed both whip anc 
heel upon the starveling ribs of old Gun- 
powder, who dashed forwards, snuffling and 
snorting, but came to a stand just by the 
bridge, with a suddenness that had nearly sent 
his rider sprawling over his head. Just at 
this moment a plashy tramp by the side of the 
bridge caught the sensitive ear of Ichabod. 
In the dark shadow of the grove, on the 



Sleepy Hollow 53 

margin of the brook, he beheld something 
huge, misshapen, black and towering. It 
stirred not, but seemed gathered up in the 
gloom, like some gigantic monster ready 
to spring upon the traveler. 
The hair of the affrighted pedagogue rose 
upon his head with terror. What was to 
be done? To turn and fly was now too 
late; and besides, what chance was there 
of escaping ghost or goblin, if such it was, 
which could ride upon the wings of the 
wind? Summoning up, therefore, a show 
of courage, he demanded in stammering 
accents — "Who are you?" He received no 
reply. He repeated his demand in a still 
more agitated voice. Still there was no an- 
swer. Once more he cudgelled the sides 
of the inflexible Gunpowder, and shutting 
his eyes, broke forth with involuntary fer- 
vor into a psalm tune. Just then the 
shadowy object of alarm put itself in motion, 
and with a scramble and a bound, stood at 
once in the middle of the road. Though 
the night was dark and dismal, yet the 
form of the unknown might now in some 
degree be ascertained. He appeared to be a 
horseman of large dimensions, and mount- 
ed on a black horse of powerful frame. He 
made no offer of molestation or sociability, 
but kept aloof on one side of the road, jog- 
ging along on the blind side of old Gun- 



54 The Legend of 

powder, who had now got over his fright 
and waywardness. 

Ichabod, who had no reHsh for this strange 
midnight companion, and bethought him- 
self of the adventure of Brom Bones with 
the galloping Hessian, now quickened his 
steed, in hopes of leaving him behind. The 
stranger, however, quickened his horse to 
an equal pace. Ichabod pulled up, and fell 
into a walk, thinking to lag behind — the 
other did the same. His heart began to 
sink within him; he endeavored to resume 
his psalm tune, but his parched tongue 
clove to the roof of his mouth, and he could 
not utter a stave. There was something 
in the moody and dogged silence of this 
pertinacious companion, that was mysteri- 
ous and appalling. It was soon fearfully 
accounted for. On mounting a rising 
ground, which brought the figure of his 
fellow-traveler in relief against the sky, 
gigantic in height, and muffled in a cloak, 
Ichabod was horror-struck, on perceiving 
that he was headless ! but his horror was 
still more increased, on observing that the 
head, which should have rested on his 
shoulders, was carried before him on the 
pommel of his saddle ! His terror rose to 
desperation ; he rained a shower of kicks 
and blows upon Gunpowder, hoping, by a 
sudden movement, to give his companion 



Sleepy Hollow 55 

the slip — but the spectre started full jump 
with him. Away, then, they dashed 
through thick and thin; stones flying and 
sparks flashing at every bound. Ichabod's 
flimsy garments fluttered in the air, as he 
stretched his long lank body away over his 
horse's head in the eagerness of his flight. 
They had now reached the road which 
turns oiFto Sleepy Hollow; but Gunpowder, 
who seemed possessed with a demon, in- 
stead of keeping up it, made an opposite 
turn, and plunged headlong down hill to 
the left. This road leads through a sandy 
hollow, shaded by trees for about a quarter 
of a mile, where it crosses the bridge 
famous in goblin story; and just beyond 
swells the green knoll on which stands the 
white-washed church. 
As yet the panic of the steed had given 
his unskillful rider an apparent advantage 
in the chase; but just as he had got half- 
way through the hollow, the girths of the 
saddle gave way, and he felt it slipping from 
under him. He seized it by the pommel, 
and endeavored to hold it firm, but in vain; 
and had just time to save himself by clasp- 
ing old Gunpowder round the neck, when 
the saddle fell to the earth, and he heard it 
trampled under foot by his pursuer. For 
a moment the terror of Hans Van Ripper's 
wrath passed across his mind — for it was 



56 The Legend of 

his Sunday saddle; but this was no time for 
petty fears: the goblin was hard on his 
haunches; and (unskillful rider that he 
was!) he had much ado to maintain his 
seat ; sometimes slipping on one side, some- 
times on another, and sometimes jolted on 
the high ridge of his horse's back-bone, with 
a violence that he verily feared would cleave 
him asunder. 

An opening in the trees now cheered him 
with the hopes that the church bridge was 
at hand. The wavering reflection of a silver 
star in the bosom of the brook told him that 
he was not mistaken. He saw the walls 
of the church dimly glaring under the trees 
beyond. He recollected the place where 
Brom Bones' ghostly competitor had dis- 
appeared. ** If I can but reach that bridge,'* 
thought Ichabod, "I am safe." Just then 
he heard the black steed panting and blow- 
ing close behind him ; he even fancied that 
he felt his hot breath. Another convul- 
sive kick in the ribs, and old Gunpowder 
sprang upon the bridge ; he thundered over 
the resounding planks ; he gained the oppo- 
site side, and now Ichabod cast a look be- 
hind to see if his pursuer should vanish, 
according to rule, in a flash of fire and 
brimstone. Just then he saw the goblin 
rising in his stirrups, and in the very act of 
hurling his head at him. Ichabod endeav- 



Sleepy Hollow 57 

ored to dodge the horrible missile, but too 
late. It encountered his cranium with a 
tremendous crash — he was tumbled head- 
long into the dust, and Gunpowder, the 
black steed, and the goblin rider, passed by 
like a whirlwind. 

The next morning the old horse was found 
without his saddle, and with the bridle 
under his feet, soberly cropping the grass 
at his master's gate. Ichabod did not make 
his appearance at breakfast — dinner-hour 
came, but no Ichabod. The boys assembled 
at the school-house, and strolled idly about 
the banks of the brook; but no school- 
master. Hans Van Ripper now began to 
feel some uneasiness about the fate of poor 
Ichabod, and his saddle. An inquiry was 
set on foot, and after diligent investigation 
they came upon his traces. In one part 
of the road leading to the church, was 
found the saddle trampled in the dirt ; the 
tracks of horses* hoofs deeply dented in the 
road, and evidently at furious speed, were 
traced to the bridge, beyond which, on 
the bank of a broad part of the brook, where 
the water ran deep and black, was found 
the hat of the unfortunate Ichabod, and 
close beside it a shattered pumpkin. 
The brook was searched, but the body of 
the schoolmaster was not to be discovered. 
Hans Van Ripper, as executor of his estate. 



58 The Legend of 

examined the bundle which contained all 
his worldly effects. They consisted of two 
shirts- and a half; two stocks for the neck; 
a pair or two of worsted stockings ; an old 
pair of corduroy small-clothes; a rusty razor; 
a book of psalm tunes full of dog's ears; 
and a broken pitch-pipe. As to the books 
and furniture of the school-house, they be- 
longed to the community, excepting Cotton 
Mather's History of Witchcraft, a New- 
England Almanac, and a book of dreams 
and fortune-telling; in which last was a 
sheet of foolscap much scribbled and blotted, 
by several fruitless attempts to make a copy 
of verses in honor of the heiress of Van 
Tassel. These magic books and the poetic 
scrawl were forthwith consigned to the 
flames by Hans Van Ripper; who, from 
that time forward, determined to send his 
children no more to school; observing that 
he never knew any good come of this 
same reading and writing. Whatever 
money the schoolmaster possessed, and he 
had received his quarter's pay but a day or 
two before, he must have had about his 
person at the time of his disappearance. 
The mysterious event caused much specu- 
lation at the church on the following Sun- 
day. Knots of gazers and gossips were 
collected in the churchyard, at the bridge, 
and at the spot where the hat and pumpkin 



Sleepy Hollow 59 

had been found. The stories of Brouwer, 
of Bones, and a whole budget of others, 
were called to mind, and when they had 
diligently considered them all, and com- 
pared them with the symptoms of the 
present case, they shook their heads, and 
came to the conclusion, that Ichabod had 
been carried off by the galloping Hessian. 
As he was a bachelor, and in nobody's 
debt, nobody troubled his head any more 
about him; the school was removed to a 
different quarter of the Hollow, and another 
pedagogue reigned in his stead. 
It is true, an old farmer who had been 
down to New York on a visit several years 
after, and from whom this account of the 
ghostly adventure was received, brought 
home the intelligence that Ichabod Crane 
was still alive; that he had left the neigh- 
borhood partly through fear of the goblin 
and Hans Van Ripper, and partly in morti- 
fication at having been suddenly dismissed 
by the heiress; that he had changed his quar- 
ters to a distant part of the country; had 
kept school and studied law at the same 
time; had been admitted to the bar; turned 
politician; electioneered; written for the 
newspapers; and finally, had been made a 
Justice of the Ten Pound Court. Brom 
Bones, too, who, shortly after his rival's dis- 
appearance, conducted the blooming Ka- 



6o The Legend of 

trina in triumph to the altar, was observed 
to look exceedingly knowing whenever the 
story of Ichabod was related, and always 
burst into a hearty laugh at the mention of 
the pumpkin; which led some to suspect 
that he knew more about the matter than 
he chose to tell. 

The old country wives, however, who are 
the best judges of these matters, maintain 
to this day, that Ichabod was spirited away 
by supernatural means; and it is a favorite 
story often told about the neighborhood, 
round the winter evening fire. The bridge 
became more than ever an object of super- 
stitious awe; and that may be the reason why 
the road has been altered of late years, so 
as to approach the church by the border of 
the mill-pond. The schoolhouse, being de- 
serted, soon fell to decay, and was reported 
to be haunted by the ghost of the unfortu- 
nate pedagogue; and the plough-boy, loiter- 
ing homeward of a still summer evening, 
has often fancied his voice at a distance, 
chanting a melancholy psalm tune among 
the tranquil solitudes of Sleepy Hollow. 

POSTSCRIPT. 

Found in the handwriting of Mr. Knickerbocker. 

The preceding Tale is given, almost in the precise words in 
which I heard it related at a Corporation meeting of the an- 
cient city of the Manhattoes*, at which were present many of 
its sagest and most illustrious burghers. The narrator was a 

* New York. 



Sleepy Hollow 6 1 

pleasant, shabby, gentlemanly old fellow in pepper-and-salt 
clothes, with a sadly humorous face ; and one whom I strongly 
suspected of being poor — he made such efforts to be entertain- 
ing. When his story was concluded there was much laughter 
and approbation, particularly from two or three deputy alder- 
men, who had been asleep the greater part of the time. There 
was, however, one tall, dry-looking old gentleman, with 
beetling eyebrows, who maintained a grave and rather severe 
face throughout; now and then folding his arms, inclining 
his head, and looking down upon the floor, as if turning a 
doubt over in his mind. He was one of your wary men, who 
never laugh but upon good grounds — when they have reason 
and the law on their side. When the mirth of the rest of the 
company had subsided, and silence was restored, he leaned 
one arm on the elbow of his chair, and sticking the other a- 
kimbo, demanded, with a slight but exceedingly sage motion 
of the head, and contraction of the brow, what was the moral 
of the story, and what it went to prove. 
The story-teller, who was just putting a glass of wine to his 
lips, as a refreshment after his toils, paused for a moment, look- 
ed at his inquirer with an air of infinite deference, and lower- 
ing the glass slowly to the table, observed that the story was 
intended most logically to prove : — 

**That there is no situation in life but has its advantages and 
pleasures — ^provided we will but take a joke as we find it : 
"That, therefore, he that runs races with goblin troopers, is 
likely to have rough riding of it : 

"Ergo, for a country schoolmaster to be refiised the hand of 
a Dutch heiress, is a certain step to high preferment in the 
state." 

The cautious old gentleman knit his brows tenfold closer after 
this explanation, being sorely puzzled by the ratiocination of 
the syllogism; while, methought, the one in pepper-and-salt 
eyed him with something of a triumphant leer. At length he 
observed, that all this was very well, but still he thought the 
story a little on the extravagant — there were one or two points 
on which he had his doubts: 

"Faith, sir,** rephed the story-teller, "as to that matter, I 
don't believe one-half of it myself. " 



THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW. PRINTED BY WILL BRADLEY AT 
THE WAYSIDE PRESS, SPRINGFIELD, MASS., U. S. A., IN NOVEMBER, 
MDCCCXCVII. 



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